Tweny Three
Jamie
My joint gets snatched from my fingers before I can bring it to my lips for another drag. “Hey!” Brianna rolls her decorated eyes at me, ignoring my scowl. “What the fuck, Bri?!”
“Oh, shut up.” Taking a drag herself, she then stomps on it.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Saving you from yourself, yet again. Jamie gets pouty. Jamie gets high. Jamie makes it everyone else’s problem. Blah blah blah.” She folds her arms over her chest and I know she feels a chill. The weather’s kind of mild for late September, but the impractical top she’s wearing—and probably made—is a bit thin.
“Here.” I offer her my sweater and she begrudgingly accepts it.
“I’m not that cold.”
“I can see your nipples.”
“You’re welcome.”
“What are you doing?”
“Seeing if you’re okay.”
“Fucking fantastic.”
“Josh didn’t know.”
“Josh is a dick.” Logically, I know Josh doesn’t know I almost died, but still. Josh is an asshole.
“Seems to like Noah a lot.”
Rage punches my chest. “Good for him.” Fuck, I just need something to do with my hands. Something that doesn’t involve smoking, drinking, or punching Josh’s stupid, pretty fucking face.
Breathe.
“Noah looks hot, huh?” Her purple lips split into a mischievous smile. Luci had said once that Brianna looked like a pixie—colorful, playful, and out to start trouble. She’s also tiny, which would only get me a punch to the nuts if I said it out loud.
“His makeup looks good.” Noah does look stunning, and all Josh keeps doing is gawking and being a fucking dick.
“What did Noah say about your clothing?”
Nothing.
Nothing at all.
Although he didn’t have much time with Mark, Hunter, and fuckwad Josh coming through the door. “He didn’t say anything.” Bri’s manicured brows pinch with sympathy I don’t want.
“Oh, Jamie—”
“It’s fine, he—”
“Hey, hey!” I hear someone say around the back, probably on the porch. We’re hidden in the shadows on the side underneath my bedroom window. “I got a minute.” Bri looks at me and mouths Josh . “I’m at a friend’s house right now. Heading out soon, though. Yeah, I met the friend. Typical slutty bottom. Pretty face, round ass. Perfect. Yeah, yeah, I know. No. Liam thinks I’m out at a convention right now. It’s fine. If you saw this little twink you wouldn’t blame me. I’m going to take him back to a hotel. Why would I break up with Liam? It’s like having a live-in maid I can fuck. Win-win. Yeah okay, sure. Of course. I’ll try to get some nudes for you. ’Kay, talk to you later.”
Oh, I’m going to kill him.
My body moves before my mind does. “Jamie, no!” Bri grabs my sleeve but I tug out of her hold, careful not to hurt her. “Jamie, get back here!” she hisses.
“I’m just going to talk to him.”
“Jamie!” Grabbing the back of my T-shirt, she tries with all her tiny might to slow me down, but I end up dragging her behind me with one focus on my mind.
Kill Josh.
Storming up the steps, I see the cocky fuck smoking a cigarette. “What the fuck was that?”
Startled, he looks up, and I’m not sure what he sees on my face, but fear flashes quickly. “What?”
“Who the fuck was on the phone?”
“What are you talking about?”
“The phone, you dumb fuck.”
“Dude, back off.” Josh takes a tiny step back, looking around for an escape route.
“You’re not going to come into my house and fuck with my friends.”
“Yeah...” He smirks. “Friends, sure. Seems like half of them can’t stand you.”
“What’s going on?” Hunter asks, as he and Mark step onto the porch. I hadn’t even seen Bri leave to go get them.
“Your friend is a psycho, Mark. That’s all.”
“Not my friend.” Mark rolls his eyes. Grabbing the collar of Josh’s shirt I back him up, his feet nearly tripping as I slam him against the siding. “Jamie!” Mark yells, pulling me off his friend, but it’s no use. I’m too pissed. Mark is nearly as tall as I am, but I’m bigger. Stronger.
Ignoring Noah’s annoying friend, I level my eyes at Josh, fury rolling off me in waves. “You so much as breathe in Noah’s direction again and I will remove your lungs through your fucking nose.” Josh’s fingers struggle at the hand tightly around his neck.
“Get the fuck off me,” he chokes.
“Get the fuck out of my house, and don’t you even blink at him on the way out.”
“You’re a fucking psycho.” He’s turning a little purple so I loosen my grip. Hunter’s hands are on me, bringing me back to earth as I let Josh go.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Mark screams at me.
“The good friend you brought here for Noah has a fucking boyfriend, and was trying to get Noah to go back to a hotel where he was going to take nudes and send them to his disgusting friend!”
Josh laughs between choking breaths. “You’re such a liar.”
“He called Noah a slutty bottom,” Bri adds.
“Is that true?” A soft voice makes me freeze. Turning, I see Noah in the doorway watching everything go down. “Is that what you called me?” The break in his voice makes me want to break Josh’s nose. All I want to do is pull Noah into my arms.
After I kill Josh. I can multitask.
“He’s insane. Clearly.”
“I heard you too,” Bri confirms. “His boyfriend’s name is Liam.”
“Liam?” Mark glares. “You said he dumped you when you moved out here.”
“They’re lying. He’s clearly a mentally unstable psychopath.” Josh scoffs. My fist clenches, but Hunter grabs my arm. Then Josh’s gaze swings to Noah. “You look like cheap trash anyway. Believe me, not worth the effort.”
Shoving Hunter away, something I will apologize for later, blood sprays. Josh cries out, crumpling, holding his nose. Blood gushes onto my deck. “What the fuck!” he screams. “You’re going to jail!”
Fury rolls through me, but I’m not worried about that. I look around but Noah is gone. “I think game night is over,” Xavi whispers.
“I’m pressing charges!”
“No you aren’t.” Mark surprises me, passing me a look, and in this moment we finally find common ground. “You press charges and I’ll be telling Liam you’re fucking around.”
“You don’t even know him!” Blood seeps through his fingers.
“Social media, dickhead. Not hard to find him. Now get the fuck out before I add a black eye to that mess.”
“You’re all fucking insane.” Josh spits blood on my shoe before leaving down the porch steps.
“I need to find Noah.” Mark runs his fingers through his blond hair.
“No.” Hunter tugs Mark against him, into his arms. “We’re going home.”
“I need to check on him.”
Hunter’s eyes meet mine before looking back at his boyfriend. “He’ll be okay. We need to go home.”
Mark looks at me again, and I see it for what it is.
An olive branch.
Make sure Noah’s okay.
Gladly.
With everyone gone, a plan comes to mind. I glance at Noah’s door, still closed, and walking through the kitchen to the back porch, the night air greets me. Fall is my favorite time of year and I’m eager for the summer heat to end. Give me cool weather any day of the week. It’s a nice night tonight, the stars clear overhead. Grabbing one of the chairs, I prop up the giant canvas I grabbed from the attic.
Not like she’s using it.
Grabbing paper bowls, I pour paints of various colors into them. They’re old, but they’ll work for what I need.
With everything set up I go back into the house, going to Noah’s door again and knocking. “Can I come in please?”
Finally, I hear his voice. “Come in.”
I open the door slowly, and see Noah sitting at his makeshift vanity. His face is now bare and he’s putting lotion on his legs. “Hey.” While Noah looked stunning tonight, seeing him like this—relaxed, pink crop top and black shorts—it makes me smile.
“Are you alright?”
“Best I’ve ever been,” Noah mumbles, rubbing lotion on his thighs. Shutting his door softly, I sit on his bed. Hunter might have lived here, but Noah has truly made it his. I love how soft his comforter feels. Liked it more when I was under it with Noah’s arms around me.
Hunter kept this place pretty bare bones, but Noah has decorated it. There’s so much personality to it now. Shimmery curtains. A sheer canopy over his bed. A decorated mirror that Bri had helped him with after he found it at a thrift store. There’s a book sale at the library every month, and Noah’s room bursts with the evidence. Stacks and stacks of books line his walls. I need to hurry with that shelf.
“I’m really sorry.”
“I’m really sorry for your hand.” That makes him laugh a bit. “I should be used to it.”
“No, you shouldn’t be.”
“I asked for it.”
“No, you didn’t. No one should be treated that way.”
“Not even cheap twinks?” He tries to laugh it off.
Fuck Josh.
I get up and sit on the bench next to Noah. There isn’t much room but I squeeze on there with him, looping an arm around him and pulling him into my body. I kiss the top of his head and feel Noah sag against me. “He’s lucky I didn’t kill him.”
“I’m lucky you didn’t kill him.” Noah smiles up at me. “Orange is not your color.”
“I know you’re upset but... you kind of owe me.”
Noah wrenches away from my arms. “Owe you?!”
“I mean, I was promised a super-fun game night. I thought you were better than this,” I tease.
Noah’s brows scrunch and fuck, it’s so goddamn cute. “Excuse me. I am the game-night master!”
I shrug, getting off the bench. “Kind of mediocre if you ask me.”
“Oh, you are an asshole!” Noah grabs a hair tie, putting his hair into a tiny ponytail. “Come on. Redo. Right now!”
“Or.” I laugh. “My turn. Show you how it’s done.”
“What?” All his teasing stops. “What do you mean?”
“I got something set up. Could be fun.”
“Okay. I’m intrigued.”
“Not a sex thing.”
“Less intrigued.”
I grab his chin in my fingers, tilting his face up. Damn these green eyes, sparkling and shining and so fucking beautiful. I want to kiss his lips, but I just settle my forehead against his. “I’ll be in the backyard. Wear something warm, that you won’t care if it gets ruined.”
Noah walks out onto the back porch wearing a loose white sweater with a scoop neck and small holes here and there—one close to his nipple, giving me a peek—as well as black yoga pants, molded to his shapely thighs in a way that had to be meant to kill me.
This man is unreal.
“What are we doing?” He darts his eyes between mine and the canvas, a little confused. “I’m not very artistic.” Well, I have to disagree with that. Noah has this little notebook he tracks all his reading in, and the way he’s decorated it is very artistic.
That fluttery feeling is back—the one I feel every time Noah walks into a room, just existing. Noah’s been open and honest this entire time, now it’s time to give back. Just a little. Noah won’t make fun of me, I know this.
Vulnerable and open.
Let’s go.
“When I moved in with Lia I’d just left a very very bad home.” An understatement. Every time I’d thought, this can’t get worse , but it was like the universe said hold my beer. “There had been a long string of bad ones, and it was hard adjusting at first. I didn’t trust anyone. I was just so fucking angry at everything and everyone.
“She knew I liked to draw. I used to do it at the library, so she bought paint and canvas. She said, ‘If you’re going to be pissed at the world, at least do something productive with that anger.’” Reaching in, I scoop lime-green paint into my hand, loving the way it feels. It brings me back to those early days with my new forever family.
All I want is for Noah to have a piece of me. Just a tiny one. My life’s been so shadowed all these years, and I’m tired. So fucking tired. Being depressed and angry all the time—I’m sick of it. “She set up the canvas and paint and told me to take whatever I was feeling out on the canvas.” The thick paint, a little broken from age, runs through my fingers. Deciding where to throw, I wind up, paint flying through the air and landing on the canvas with a satisfying thwack . “You try.”
Licking his lips, Noah looks at the paint, and then his sparkling eyes land on me, nearly taking the air out of my lungs. Will there come a time when his mere existence doesn’t hit me in the chest?
Noah walks slowly, and my eyes dip down the thin fabric of those fucking pants as he bends to grab some paint. “Can we play twenty questions?
Playful little fox . “Always with the games.” I smile, though. He loves to have fun. Everything’s a game—or could be.
“You can ask me a question, and I’ll answer after I throw the paint on.”
“How does someone win?” I ask.
“You don’t have to have a winner to play a game. I think we’ll both win.” Noah lets the blue paint drip from his graceful fingers. “You can go first. Ask away.”
I think for a moment. “Anything off limits?”
Pressing a blue finger to his chin, leaving a cute smudge, he thinks. “No. If I’m uncomfortable, I’ll let you know. Same with you.”
Alright, well. Here we go. There are a bunch of things I want to know, but I also want to keep it light. Tonight was a lot. I just want Noah to have a little fun. “What’s your favorite romance trope?”
That brings the biggest smile to his face, as intended. “I have a couple,” he says.
“Tell me.”
Noah reaches in, grabbing more blue paint and throwing it toward the canvas. “Enemies to lovers is the best. Forced proximity, grumpy-sunshine.” My brows pinch. “Can’t imagine why I like you.” He giggles.
“I’d hardly call us enemies.”
“And I’d hardly call us lovers.” Noah smiles, but it’s a bit off. “You are grumpy, though.”
Okay, I can agree with that, and Noah is definitely sunshine personified. “You weren’t forced to live here.”
“No, but this was the best option. Hunter had enough of my ass.”
“He was in the trenches.”
“I get it. Not what he expected after just moving in with Mark. That was bad enough, and to then add me to it—not great.”
Laughing, I ask, “What’s your favorite sub gen—”
“That’s another question, honey bee.” Fair enough. Scooping red paint, I wait for Noah to take his turn. “Do you speak Japanese?”
Okay, that surprises me. “Not really. My birth mom didn’t teach me.” I’d probably be mute if it wasn’t for daycare. “The short version is... she barely spoke to me, let alone taught me.”
Noah doesn’t linger on it or ask any other questions, which warms me. It’s like he can sense when something’s hard to talk about and changes the subject.
My red paint smacks onto Noah’s blue, forming a dull purple. “My turn.” Grabbing pink, Noah smiles and waits with the paint dripping from his fingers. “How many boyfriends have you had?”
That question seems to surprise him. “Huh?”
“Too many?”
Noah rolls his eyes. “No. Honestly I can’t think of any. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve hooked up plenty. College was freedom. I was like one of those kids getting a key to the chocolate factory. I indulged but... no boyfriends. Not really.”
Noah smacks his pink across the blue and purple combo. “Same question, but girls.”
Grabbing orange, I shrug. “Four, I guess. Two in high school, although they were short and silly relationships—well, I see it that way now—then that girl I dated when she started college. The one I mentioned earlier.” Her name was Elana and she was, up until that point, one of the most beautiful people I’d ever seen. She was one of the only people who distracted me from how badly I loved Luci. Then she broke up with me in her freshman year of college. Long distance. Honestly, I still think about her sometimes. “Then... uh, I met a girl during summer vacation with my family. Lia has a lake house about two hours from here.” Strawberry-blonde hair. Freckles that spattered her nose. “We dated for nearly a year.” Long distance was hard. In the beginning we’d drive halfway to meet in this small town. It was fun and romantic.
At first.
Long distance was hard, though. We were doomed from the start.
“What happened?” I cock a pierced brow and Noah concedes. “Right. New question.”
Noah grabs the teal, waiting for me. The canvas is now spattered with so many different colors it’s becoming a little muddy. Beauty isn’t the point, though. “What’s your favorite memory with your mother?”
“Oh, wow.”
“You don’t have to answer.”
“No, it’s okay.” Noah walks to the paint, putting both his hands in the white. Instead of throwing it though, he walks to the canvas and smears his hands across the other colors. “My mother loved Alice in Wonderland . She had this one worn copy. It was beautiful. The pages were gold and the cover baby blue. She used to read it to me every night—just a little bit. Once she was finished she’d start again. It was our thing. Throughout the day I rarely saw her, but the nights were ours. Now, if I see a copy at a sale or something I pick it up. I have eighteen different versions so far.”
Well, I didn’t expect that, one bit. It makes sense now, why the story is so close to Noah’s heart. “Wow, that’s really sweet.” Going to grab more paint I pause, seeing Noah spin away. “What’s wrong?”
Noah doesn’t turn, just shaking his head. “I’m just... angry.”
“What?” Grabbing the hand towel I brought out here, I wipe my hands as best I can, walking over to him.
“I knew he wouldn’t be happy that I was gay. Disowning me, though...” Watching him tremble, I keep my hands at my sides, uneasy, not knowing what to do. “It’s pathetic. Why do I even care?” Noah wipes his eyes, streaking paint across his face. “If I hadn’t left he would have killed me. He fucking tried to.”
Gently, I turn him to face me, taking his face in my hands. Glassy green eyes blink up at me and I wipe my thumbs underneath them. “You’re not pathetic. Your father is.” My thumbs soothe along his cheekbones as I hate his father even more. “That asshole can’t touch you anymore. Not here. Not with me.” And I mean it.
Noah gives me a watery smile, laying his hands over mine. He swallows, nodding. “Thank you.” His hands drops, but he grabs me instead, pulling me in for a hug. My arms don’t know what to do at first, but slowly they drop, hugging him back. He feels small in my arms, and fuck if I don’t like the feel of him there a little too much. “My turn.”
I lose his arms and almost wish I hadn’t. “Ask away.”
“Can I ask a dirty one?” Of course. I nod with a smirk. “I don’t mean to compare, but I’m curious. Is it different with me, a guy? Like, I know it’s technically different, but does it make you... I don’t know, I guess... Is it weird, or does it feel off? I don’t know. I’m curious, I guess, and don’t know how to put it into words.”
I’m not really sure where Noah’s going with this. Bisexuality confuses a lot of people, even inside the Alphabet. I know he’s not asking from a mean place, though. “If you’re asking whether I feel weird being with a guy... no.” I’ll get that out of the way. “This does feel different, though.” Grabbing black paint, I throw it. “But it has nothing to do with you being a man.” It has everything to do with Noah being Noah. He opens his mouth to say something but I can’t elaborate. Not right now. “Your turn. Can I ask a dirty one too?” He swallows whatever he wanted to say and nods. “What...” My cheeks heat. Shit like this feels weird to talk about. I know Noah loves to be flirty and a bit dirty which, fuck, I like that too. I love how shameless he is. “What’s your favorite sexual act, that’s not penetrative sex?”
My little fox smirks.
Instead of grabbing paint, Noah walks over to me. Every swing of his hips catches my attention. Noah is masculine... feminine... soft curves... hard, sculpted lines. Taking his paint-soaked fingers he drags them down my cheeks to lace around my neck. My breaths come out in pathetic stutters. Noah smiles, wide and playful, before leaning in gently and placing those lips on my neck. My dick wakes up instantly. “I like to ride my partners fingers as they blow me, stroking my prostate as I come. Fuck.” The soft, husky tone makes my cock jerk, and fuck does he notice.
I swallow hard, and Noah tracks the movement with those damn eyes. Those eyes are the first thing I want to see in the morning, and the last when I finally leave this earth.
“My turn,” he says. I go to grab paint, but Noah doesn’t move away from me. His pink lips turn up in a smile. “Do you want to kiss me?”
So fucking much.
Noah’s eyes slam into me. Emotion I can’t place passes through them. Fuck, I’ve never wanted anything so damn bad. Cupping his face, I smooth my thumb along his jaw before tilting his face up. Noah said he loves height differences in his stories, and fuck, looking down at the gorgeous man in front of me, I love them a little too.
My body hums with the first press of his lips. Soft and sweet. I become boneless with a moan as Noah’s tongue slips into my mouth. He finds my piercing, flicking the piece and making me moan again. So close, I can feel Noah through those damn yoga pants. All I want to do is slide them down and bury my face between his gorgeous thighs.
“Last question,” he says against my lips. “Do you want to take a shower with me?”